


you and me makes three

by wrabbit



Series: victorian polyamory in progress [1]
Category: Sherlock Holmes (2009)
Genre: Multi, Polyamory, Queer Gen, Same-Sex Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-20
Updated: 2010-07-20
Packaged: 2017-10-10 16:42:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrabbit/pseuds/wrabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Watson came to be married. Twice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you and me makes three

**Author's Note:**

> Written for crack bingo "accidentally married." Betaed by voksen.

"No matter what happens, I need to call on your full trust in me today," Holmes whispered urgently in my ear, pulling me aside on the busy street. I glanced suspiciously at the unassuming tavern across the road and nodded shortly. As soon as I gave my word, Holmes was ushering us in and past full tables toward the back room. He slowly cracked open the door and we slid inside. Behind a dirty table in the closet-like space, a blond man wearing a rather distinctive black robe under an overcoat was waiting. He pulled a book out of his pocket as we stepped in, but the room was otherwise quite empty. I admit I was still puzzling over the arrangement when a white flower was pressed into my lapel and it wasn't until the ceremony was about to be swiftly and irrevocably concluded before god when it occurred to me that Holmes was about to make my sworn trust in him a more extensive vow than I had previously expected.

It all seemed very unreal as Holmes wheedled two pints from the barman for the newly wedded. I considered throwing mine in his face as a small round of applause was provoked from the lunchtime crowd.

I considered and discarded a number of questions and accusations, each one seeming more urgent than the last, as Holmes led us quickly back up the street. "Are you even on a case?" I finally settled on, struggling to keep track of his dark head in the crowd. He didn't answer as we shuffled across the intersection and changed direction toward the last place I wanted to go. He quickened his pace, possibly judging rightly what I would do if I managed to catch up to him. I chased him into a run until we arrived, panting, on my own doorstep and accosted him finally, but he managed to slip through the door by shedding his coat into my grip with a twist too fast for my eyes to follow.

"Watson, do control yourself," he cried as he skipped lightly upstairs, his voice echoing through the open door. I stumbled upstairs, too incensed to begin to worry which of my neighbors would see or hear.

The evidence was already brandished as I slid around the door into the sitting room, upsetting the carpet. Mary smiled at me quickly and then gestured for Holmes to come nearer and hand her the document, her lap still occupied by needles and lace.

"Mary, I can explain," I started. She held up a hand and interrupted me-- I had apparently barged uninvited into a conversation in my own sitting room.

"So you are," Mary said to Holmes after perusing the paper. She held the document out, which Holmes pocketed before I could get a chance to examine it although I suspected what it was and the meaning of the signatures scrawled at the bottom.

I opened my mouth to speak again when Holmes raised his chin and said, imperious and completely mad, "I think you'll find Gladstone is our dog, now."

Mary nodded and said "Of course. I think you'll find him in the kitchen at this hour, Mr. Holmes, or is it Mr. Watson now?" She smiled. Holmes looked as if he'd dearly like to roll his eyes. Neither of them were looking at me while I tried not to consider the idea that Holmes had married me for the dog.

"Mrs. Watson," Holmes said and bowed deeply. He freed his coat from my loose grip. Then he was gone to fetch the dog, proof of our unexpected union safely ensconced in his pockets and I was left rather lost for words. Mary beckoned me over and I could do nothing but silently approach, expecting anything but a resigned sigh as she reached to remove the shameful, now wilted and crushed, flower from my coat.

"Before you apologize, I'd appreciate it if you would wait a few days before inviting our new husband to dinner," she said.


End file.
